Think Less, Feel More

What do I have to do today? Cleaning? I hate cleaning. I need my own maid.

Is it that freakin’ hard to put the dishes in the bloody sink.

OWW! What did I just step on. Fuckin’ Scottie. I swear I’m throwing this bone away.

Ewww. My toes look all deformed. I need a pedicure. I can’t go out with my nasty toes. What will everyone think?

Oh, well. Who cares, right?

My legs are so hairy. I need to shave asap.

But why should I shave? Men are so oppressive.

But, damn, my legs are oppressively hairy.

Wait, don’t I have to pay some bills today?

What, bills?

I have bill dementia.

Dementia is a funny word.

It’s not funny, though.

Demi Lovato is so annoying on that show.

Tammy, think positive. Think positive.

Well, she is annoying.

Wait, what am I suppose to be doing?

Oh, bills, right?

I need a bubble bath.

Bills can wait.

OOOOhhhhh, Facebook.

In my head I’m rolling my eyes at my sister’s status update.

I should totally write a passive-aggressive post.

Yay!

No.

That wouldn’t be very nice.

My family annoys me.

Not like annoy like impatience, but annoy me in their insistence to not communicate with me.

Why can’t they love me?

Why am I blacksheeped?

I’m lovable, right?

Yeah, totally. Maybe, I’m not.

Maybe they are right.

I’m stupid.

I’m ugly.

I’m fat.

I’m worthless.

I’m pointless.

I’m not worth their affection or love.

I’m so hate-able.

But, damnit, I’m pretty awesome.

Fuck ’em.

Block.

Unfollow.

Block.

Block.

Sigh.

Why can’t they love me, though?

Maybe they are right.

No, Tammy.

Deep breath.

You’re awesome.

Stop analyzing.

Stop analyzing.

Shit, I gotta wake Zach up.

Stupid, brain, you derailed me.

That’s an average one-hour span in my brain on an average morning during an average week. It’s so exhausting. My brain never shuts off…or that’s how it feels at times. I just analyze and re-analyze emotional situations. I have to analyze broken relationships over and over in my brain; it’s like a broken record.

At the crux of it, I always place blame on myself. I’m probably a bit TOO hard on myself — I still struggle with absolving this thought of maintaining relationships for JUST the sake of maintaining relationships.

It’s frustrating.

Think. Think. Think.

I analyze every stare, glance, whisper I feel in a church setting and most intimate social settings. Some would call me paranoid. I wouldn’t. I just have this deep-range of profound emotional capability and ability. It’s a blessing, but also problematic.

It’s a root of many perverse and sour situations, in which, I’ve resigned myself to be a dumping ground for other people and their narcissism, insecurities, and self-inflated ego whilst settling on being a self-deprecating fool settling for humanity atrocities.

I’m far from perfect. Heck, most of the time I’m not even good, but I am getting better at thinking LESS, and feeling MORE.

What does that even mean?

It doesn’t mean I let go of my natural desire to continue my upwards trajectory in my spiritual path, nor does it mean I throw my intelligence or inquisitive nature out the window or forego using rationale in discussions that require the aforementioned over an ineptness to to be civil, but rather means I stop thinking about things that can cause detriment to myself.

Stop thinking about having a relationship with my asinine family, and start FEELING the new relationships I do have.